Return of the Mount Hua Sect [EN]: Chapter 965

The Black Dragon King roared, using his inner energy to make his voice stronger. Seeing the Namgung Clan swordsmen, who seemed to have regained their fighting spirit, his face twisted in anger.

‘Bloody hell.’

They were very tired, maybe even more tired than before.

But their eyes were different. They were full of hate, not fear.

Of course, it would still be easy to defeat them, but more of his men would die. People ready to die are very hard to defeat.

“Fools…”

The Black Dragon King gritted his teeth.

Why waste time when they would lose anyway? He acted like he was smart, but didn’t he just lose?

The Black Dragon King stared at the Yangtze River. The water looked dark and red in the setting sun, like blood.

“…Bloody hell!”

What made him angriest wasn’t Jang Il-so, who had messed things up. It was himself, for not questioning Jang Il-so, even though it hurt the Waterway Company.

Grind.

He remembered when he first came to the Yangtze River; things were different then. Where did it all go wrong?

Strong anger flashed in the Black Dragon King’s eyes.

He had to let out his anger.

“Tear them apart! Every one of them! Don’t let them die easily! Make them feel the pain of going against the Waterway Company!”

He let his anger out on the Namgung Clan.

Crack!

The harpoon, sharp and full of inner energy, easily went through the trained fighter.

“Guh…”

A cruel smile spread across the pirate’s face. His eyes shone with sick pleasure as he watched the blood.

The pirate twisted the harpoon that was stuck in him. Anyone would fall down in pain when a harpoon went through their gut.

But—

“Heh…”

The Namgung Clan swordsman, with the harpoon in him, suddenly grinned. He showed his bloody teeth, and his sword flashed.

Wham!

Thwack!

The sword cut through bone with a dull sound, and the pirate’s head flew off.

The swordsman almost fell, but he used his bloody sword to stay up. He lifted his head.

“Cough!”

The pirate who used the harpoon was dead, but the harpoon was still in the swordsman. He cut off the end of the harpoon with his sword.

Clang!

Cutting the harpoon short had good and bad sides.

It made it easier to move, but the harpoon tip would dig deeper every time he moved.

But it didn’t matter.

He was going to die anyway, so it didn’t matter if harpoon tips were in his body.

Two harpoons were already in his belly. He couldn’t feel his left hand because it was cut. His shoulder was also deeply cut. Blood flowed from his leg.

But that didn’t matter either.

‘This isn’t enough.’

His eyes were full of hate.

‘Our Lord died in a worse way!’

He would not fall until ten harpoons were in him. If he was going to die, he would take as many attacks as he could to save the others.

Whoosh!

He saw harpoons coming towards him. Not one, but maybe five?

It didn’t matter. He couldn’t block them all anyway.

This Namgung swordsman, named Namgung Pyo, stepped forward and swung his sword. He attacked without trying to protect himself. He wanted to take as many pirates as possible to hell with him.

Crack! Crunch! Slice!

Harpoons went into his body as his sword cut through flesh.

Namgung Pyo’s body fell apart as he felt cold metal in his neck.

Darkness closed in. Death felt cold and near.

He was glad his neck was pierced. He wouldn’t scream.

Plop.

He felt the ground. He let his body fall, and the world went dark.

It was peaceful.

He wanted to rest. Just like this…

But then, Namgung Pyo’s eyes opened wide. He grabbed his sword again. The pirates thought he was dead and were stepping over him.

Namgung Pyo, lying down, showed his bloody teeth and swung his sword.

“Aaaaargh!”

“You bastard!”

The pirates were surprised and fell. Namgung Pyo chuckled, or tried to.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

But he couldn’t. He was like a hedgehog, with many harpoons in him, so he couldn’t laugh.

‘Young Lord… take care…’

Plop.

Another life went into the Yangtze River.

“Aaaaargh!”

The Namgung Clan swordsmen were like ghosts.

Being good at fighting doesn’t change just because you want it to. To get better at fighting, you need to work hard, not just wish for it.

But now, the Namgung Clan swordsmen were changing those ideas.

They swung their swords even when harpoons went into their eyes. They didn’t scream when harpoons went into their bellies and out their backs.

They only shouted in anger.

“Die, you dogs of the Demonic Faction!”

“I’ll show you how a Namgung swordsman dies!”

The pirates always thought they were the most hateful and cruel. Didn’t they make the Namgung Clan run away like scared dogs before?

But now, the Namgung swordsmen were winning, even though there were fewer of them.

Was there a better example of ‘fighting without caring if you die’?

One held his guts in his hand while swinging his sword. Another held his broken sword and swung it wildly. Others slashed at their enemies’ legs as they fell.

The word ‘hellscape’ was made for this.

In the middle of that hellscape, Namgung Myung was swinging his sword like a madman.

Crack!

A harpoon went into his shoulder. But Namgung Myung didn’t even move as he slashed the pirate’s heart with his sword.

“Come on!”

He shouted in anger, but he was very sad.

He didn’t care about dying. He should have died already. When Namgung Hwang died on this river, he should have died first.

He only lived because of Namgung Hwang’s order.

But…

“Guh!”

Every time he heard the quiet groans, it felt like his heart was being torn. The groans of those who bit their tongues to hide their pain were worse than screams.

“Aaaaargh!”

Namgung Myung shouted in anger. His sword fighting was no longer the proper Namgung style. It became wild and uncontrolled.

Every fighter knows they might die with a sword in their hand. Who here wasn’t ready for that?

But…

‘It’s so sad.’

Tears were in Namgung Myung’s eyes.

He was so sad and angry for his friends dying here, alone and without help, that he couldn’t stop crying.

Would anyone understand their sadness?

Would anyone remember their deaths?

A painful groan escaped Namgung Myung’s lips, like a wounded animal.

Another groan, wet with pain, came from a Namgung inspector nearby. Namgung Myung heard it clearly. The inspector had a large blade sticking out of his chest. Another man, his arm pierced and useless, dropped his sword, his lifelong companion. He threw himself at the pirates rushing towards them.

He wanted to buy just a moment longer, to protect the people behind him.

Namgung Myung laughed, a harsh, broken sound filled with despair.

“Heu⋯⋯.”

Outnumbered and outmatched.

They were already surrounded on all sides. Swords swung and swung again, yet the number of enemies did not diminish. More of them surged forward, menacingly, than those they felled.

No matter how they struggled and tried to be strong, they could not win alone.

‘Are you watching?’

Namgung Myung slowly turned his head towards the riverbank, towards the Shaolin and the Nine Sects who were undoubtedly watching their final moments from beyond.

“Are you still… are you still watching, you sons of bitches!”

Crack! Crack!

The moment his sword crashed through an enemy’s body, several harpoons flew towards him.

“Grand Chieeeef!”

The harpoons rushed towards his face with terrifying speed.

“Protect him!”

“Protect the Grand Chief!”

The Azure Sky Unit members threw themselves forward, shielding Namgung Myung. Desperately, they deflected the harpoons with their swords, and with hastily outstretched arms, they took the blows for him.

Namgung Myung screamed.

“What are you doing! You stupid bastards!”

They must not die like this. These were not men to die so meaninglessly. They were not meant to die so sadly in a place like this.

Some were destined to become heroes of the Namgung, others, renowned brave warriors. At the very least, they could have become someone’s father, someone’s friend.

Why, then, must they die for nothing?

“Eugh, aargh⋯⋯.”

He tried to rush forward, screaming, but his leg, pierced by a harpoon, would no longer move. Having spent all his energy on the wounded over the past few days, he was one of the most exhausted here.

He collapsed to the ground, and his eyes clearly saw the sight of dozens of harpoons piercing through the backs of those who stood before him.

“Uh⋯⋯.”

The spray of blood, forced out by the harpoons, covered his face.

As the hot blood poured over his face, he thought he might be burned. But perhaps what was truly hot was…

“Heueuk⋯⋯.”

Namgung Myung let out a broken laugh, full of self-hate. Then, sobs of pure despair shook his body. Soon he began to tear at his own hair, his head drooping forward like a prisoner waiting for the axe to fall.

He had wanted to be brave and strong. He had wanted to be brave and strong until the very last moment.

But… it was no longer possible for Namgung Myung.

‘Clan Lord. I⋯⋯.’

No more tears flowed from his eyes.

‘⋯⋯I failed to protect the Namgung.’

All people are the same.

When there is something too desperate to achieve with one’s own strength, one can only wish.

Closing his eyes, lowering his head, closing his hands together, not holding his sword, but praying, simply wishing desperately.

‘Please, someone⋯⋯.’

A thick sob escaped from Namgung Myung’s lips.

“Someone… someone please help me⋯⋯.”

His voice was rough and broken, like metal scraping against metal.

“Please⋯⋯.”

He muttered more desperately than any scream.

But that emotion could not possibly reach the pirates. One of them sneered as he approached Namgung Myung, who lay on the ground, broken and helpless.

“You pathetic bastard.”

Clang!

The harpoon in his hand made a brief sound.

“Asking for help? The name of Namgung will weep. Shaolin has already abandoned you; do you think anyone in this Jang River will help you?”

Perhaps he was a man of some standing among the pirates, for as he began to walk slowly, the other pirates matched his pace.

“All that talk of righteousness and justice is just a fake show; this is your true nature.”

The moment he heard those words, Namgung Myung’s shoulders trembled.

“Don’t worry. Everyone here will die, so your journey to the afterlife won’t be lonely.”

With a deep sneer, the pirate pulled back the harpoon in his hand, as if to pierce Namgung Myung’s head in one strike.

“Just die!”

It was the very moment the tightly held harpoon was launched towards Namgung Myung’s head.

Paaaaaaah!

A deafening roar, so loud it felt like his eardrums would burst, exploded through the air. The man who had launched the harpoon was horrified and turned his gaze to the side.

‘What?’

What he saw was a giant disc.

No!

Spinning furiously like a disc, flying towards him was…

‘A sword?’

Kwaaaang!

His thoughts ceased.

The image of the sword, embedded in the sandbar of Plum Blossom Island, creating a massive crater, was clearly seen.

“⋯⋯.”

He was about to twist his face in confusion at this unbelievable sight when a single line appeared, connecting the top of his head to his groin.

Everyone stared blankly at the scene.

“Uh⋯⋯.”

The pirate, sensing the change in his body, groped at his face with trembling hands.

‘Blood?’

Red blood dotted his palm, feeling damp. The pirate’s eyes began to tremble. The blood soaking his hand grew more and more. And soon, blood began to trickle down his chin.

“No⋯⋯ way⋯⋯.”

Horror and disbelief.

But that was all.

His eyes went in different directions, and soon, the pirate’s body, split in two, collapsed to the ground in two parts.

Plop.

A cold silence fell over Plum Blossom Island.

It was a shocking sight that instantly cooled the air, which had been heated by the wild battle. Those who had been staring blankly at the scene all turned to look at the same spot.

Towards the place from which the sword had flown, across this wide Jang River, and saved Namgung Myung.

And they saw.

The figure of a man standing on the riverbank, where the blue waves of the Jang River surged like tides.

Another groan escaped Namgung Myung’s lips, filled with pain and shock.

“Ah⋯⋯ ah⋯⋯.”

How could he not know?

That black martial uniform.

That red symbol on his chest, like a streak of blood from a heart.

Even from this distance, even with eyes that couldn’t see clearly, that figure was strangely clear.

“Hwasan⋯⋯.”

The name finally flowed fully from Namgung Myung’s lips.

“Hwasan Sword Saint⋯⋯.”

Chung Myung stared at the ships and Plum Blossom Island floating on the Jang River with cold, dark eyes.

All remained silent in this situation.

A man watching from a large ship a short distance from Plum Blossom Island smiled, his lips red and curved like a thin moon.

“Indeed⋯⋯.”

Jang Il-So smiled, seemingly pleased.

“He never disappoints.”